


Permanent Declaration

by Kayani_Iriel



Series: Unexpected Comfort [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Declarations Of Love, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayani_Iriel/pseuds/Kayani_Iriel
Summary: Flynn's planning a new tattoo, to show off to Mathias and Anduin, but nothing he comes up with is quite right... Turns out Melli might have the answer.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw, Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Unexpected Comfort [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883338
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw/Anduin Wrynn doesn't actually make an appearance, sorry, other than in recollections and discussions. Sorry :(
> 
> One of two additional shorts involving the trio. The catbus my muse drives told me I had to write them, but they were on hiatus for editing until Raventrust week was over. It ended today, so I got back to editing.

No, that wasn’t quite right either. Growling, Flynn shoved the paper aside, letting it join the half dozen other sketches he’d started and discarded on the voyage to Boralus.

Rum, he needed more rum if he was going to get the blasted thing right. He went over to one wall, pulling a bottle out of the cabinet. A healthy pour went into the chipped glass, and he swallowed deep. Not anywhere as good as the whiskey Anduin kept in his sitting room, but well, he was a captain, not a king.

At that thought, a pang went through him. He’d left the young man and Mattie yesterday, and his heart ached at being gone. It was bad enough they’d overslept and he’d had no time for a proper goodbye with the king, but he’d gotten word they needed to set sail even sooner, so he’d had to promise to make it up to his rogue upon return.

And now he was out on the ocean, alone, unsatisfied, and he couldn’t get that damn sketch right. Returning to the small table, he leafed through the discarded designs. All had something to them, but they were also all wrong. That one was too dark. That looked too much like a comic from a newspaper. That one was no better than a child’s drawing. He couldn’t get them together.

Sighing, he finished his rum and left the cabin. Air would help.

On deck, everything was clear, winds brisk. The _Bold Arva_ moved along smoothly, without any aid from Melli, their tidesage. She was still with them, to his surprise, but he wasn’t about to bring that up. Knowing his luck, she’d take off, and then the trips would take longer.

“Captain, we’re making good progress,” Grigsby said, coming up to him. “Two more days and we should be back home.”

Home. The word had an unfamiliar feel.

“Great, I can get a good beer.”

Grigsby shrugged. “I dunno boss, they seem to do alright for drinks. It’s the company I miss. I got a girl down out near Hook Point I miss. I’m ready to be back.”  
“Sorry to have kept you away so long, mate.”

“No you’re not,” the other man grinned. “You were so busy with your spy that you forgot about the rest of us.”

He felt his face flush. Grigsby laughed.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Captain. We all know you’ve got it bad for him. None of us minded the stay. I imagine we’ll be seeing plenty of it for a while, if you get your way.”

He shrugged. “Dunno. I’d like to find something, but Tides know how that’ll happen. I doubt the Alliance will want azerite hauled back to Stormwind.”

“Something’ll turn up Captain, you’ll see.” The sailor thumped him on the back and headed towards the bow.

He rubbed his face, thinking. They were due to deliver correspondence to both the 7th Legion still stationed in Boralus, and the Proudmoores themselves. It was the one favor Anduin could grant him. The _Bold Arva_ and her crew were small and nondescript enough no one would think they’d be carrying anything of importance. And with Melli onboard, they could out sail anyone except a Kul Tiran vessel.

Handling mail between the two cities wouldn’t be a common enough occurrence to get him back and forth often enough, but if they could pick up other contracts, perhaps small loads of cargo not worth carrying in large ships, or ferrying groups of people, they could make the voyage frequently enough he’d be able to see his man. Mathias might be needed in Boralus a time or two, and he could certainly travel along on the Arva…

***********************************************************************************

He cursed as he pulled the razor away. That was the second day in a row he’d cut himself shaving. “Keep it together Fairwind, you twit,” he muttered, holding a cloth to his face. He was going to have a host of scars by the time he got back if he kept this up, and he was too good looking.

He’d been dreaming, too busy looking at the love marks dotting his chest among his tattoos. They were fading, turning a lighter purple. He knew in another few days they’d be almost gone, just faint yellowish splotches. The idea bothered him more than it should have. He was a grown man, for Tides sake. Bruises from lovers shouldn’t matter, but these did.

He recalled that night, in Anduin’s bed. Mathias and the lad had him in the center. Each one had pinned down an arm, and he’d let them, even though he was reasonably sure he could have broken free. After what had felt like hours of kissing and licking and Tides knows what else, he’d found his release, and then they’d set to work marking him. It was nearly as satisfying as watching the two of them take pleasure in one another afterwards.

He caught himself smiling in the mirror, cloth still held to his face. “Fairwind, you lovesick fool,” he told his reflection. He lifted the makeshift bandage away, seeing the nick had quit bleeding. Well, thank the Tidemother for small favors. He picked up the razor again, and finished shaving.

He was reaching for a shirt when a knock sounded at the cabin door. He pulled it open, finding Melli there.

“Captain, what happened to you? Get in a fight while we were in Stormwind?”

  
“Morning to you too Melli,” he replied, ignoring the question. He stepped aside to let her enter his cramped quarters.

“We’ll be in port in an hour, unless the harbormaster holds us up.”

“We both know he won’t.”

“Exactly. Do we get any time to ourselves?”

“You just had a month in Stormwind.”

“I know, but I have things to handle here. Need to see my folks and check in with the tidesages.”  
“You thinking about leaving us?” His heart sank.

“Not currently, but if they have a more pressing ship, they may want to relocate me.” She shrugged. “To tell the truth, if we could get a route back to Stormwind, I’d rather stay on. I like it there.”

“You and me both.”  
Melli grinned. She looked again. “ _Oh_ ,” she said, the inflection saying it all.

He felt his cheeks burning, and turned to get his shirt.

“Hey, what’re all these?” he heard her ask while he was stuck in his shirt.

Finally getting it on, he turned and found her pouring over his sketches.

“Oh, just doodles, nothing important,” he lied.

“Captain, for an ex-pirate you’re a terrible liar. Are you thinking a tattoo for your spy?”

He shrugged. “In a way, yes.”

She smiled at him, her eyes a little teary. “That’s so sweet, you’ve gone and fallen for him!”

Now his ears were burning along with his cheeks.

“Melli-”

“So why do so many of them?”

“I can’t find one I like. Every time they turn out wrong. Like this one? The lines are great, but they’re too fine. They’ll end up blurry. And this one, no ink can catch those details.”

She glanced at him. “Can I see your tattoos?”

He shrugged, taking his shirt back off. Melli eyed him, running fingers over his chest. “Whoever did this first swallow of yours should be keelhauled. That thing is a disaster.”

He groaned. “Let’s be fair my girl, most of these aren’t good. I was drunk when I got it, and was so proud of it.”

“Were you sober for any?”

“Maybe one of the stars? Honestly, it’s been so long for these that I’ve forgotten.” He peered down, touching a star on his bicep. “I’m pretty sure it was this one.”

“Is that why it’s wavy?”

“Well, it hurt,” he whined.

She laughed. “Of all people, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a weakling. It’s jonly a tattoo.”

“I’d like to see you do better.”

She stepped away, rolling up her sleeve. At first, he saw little, then as she went higher he saw it. In shimmering silver ink on her bicep, was the emblem of the tidesages. The squid at the bottom was accented in a pale purple that caught the light.

“That’s stunning Melli. There’s no way that can be real.”

“Oh it’s real, had it a year now.”

He studied it, touching it gently. “Not possible. No ink’s that colour. Even if you could get ink like that, it would fade. It’s too delicate.”

“Not with the right guy, and I know him. He doesn’t do a lot of them, but if he agrees to do one for you, it’ll stay perfect for life. Provided you do what he says, of course.”

“How?”

“Magic. I didn’t ask any more. But I think for this, he might see you.”

He didn’t need to think about it. “Please. I need to do this.”

“I can’t promise anything, Captain. And he’s not cheap.”

He thought about the gold he had from running azerite for the Alliance. There was a healthy chunk left. “Doesn’t matter, I’m sure I’ve enough. But if he can do for me what you have, then it’d be worth it. This one’s special, Melli dear, you have no idea.”

“I’ll stop by when we make port, let you know tonight.”

He leaned over, kissing the top of her head. “You’re an angel, thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

Melli had only told him an address and time, not a name, and when he pressed to ask how she’d found out about him, she’d only smiled and said she’d be back tomorrow. So he sat, in a small, unadorned parlor, clutching his sketches, and waiting.

After what seemed like an eternity, a door opened, and a gnome came out. “Oh good, you’re here. Come in.”

He got up and followed her into the room. She gestured to a pair of overstuffed chairs. “Have a seat, he’ll be right in.” She poured two glasses of water, setting them down, and left.

He took a seat carefully, looking about the room. A simple parlour, done in pale blues, with an overall effect like being in a robin’s egg. Any subtlety, he decided, was lost on him.

While he was turned, trying to see what the painting behind him was, a door somewhere opened, and someone came in. Flynn turned back quickly, spilling sketches across the floor.

“Tidemother’s tits,” he cursed, bending to pick them up. “Sorry, um,” he glanced up.

A high elf sat in the chair opposite him.

“Sir,” he finished lamely, trying not to stare. It wasn’t as if high elves were non existent, they just were really, really rare. And this one looked old, with hair more grey than blonde, and some actual wrinkles.

He smiled, a gentle, kind smile. “It’s fine. Many find my methods unsettling. However, I find they produce the best art. Now, young sailor, tell me why you’re here.”

“To ask for a tattoo?”

A laugh like bells rang out. Flynn’s cheeks grew warm.

“Of course. But why to me? Boralus is full of excellent tattooists. I’m certain you’re well acquainted with the process, being a man of the sea. So I ask again, why are you here?”

“I saw Melli’s. It’s so beautiful that it hurt to look at it. When I saw it, I knew you might be the only one who could do what I wanted. I don’t know if you can.”

He thrust the papers at the tattooist.

“I can’t even do the idea justice, and I’ve been planning for weeks. It’s in my head, and I can’t get it out. There’s something right on each of those, but not enough right on any of them. And no one else would be able to do it. Either the lines are too fine, or the colours would be off, or something would be messed up, and it would ruin everything.”

He stopped, taking a deep breath. “This can’t be wrong. It’s too important, too big.”

The elf surveyed the pages, turning them slowly. Once he’d gone through them, he started again.

Flynn ached to keep talking, but instead, picked up the water glass and sipped. He held it, remembering how Anduin had been holding water that first night. He’d seemed so alone, so sad. The tears hadn’t been a surprise. The willingness to trust had.

“Tell me about him.”

“What?”

“Tell me about the young man you’re thinking of.”

“How’d you? Nevermind. Well, he’s a young man, but you’ve gotten that, somehow. Creepy, by the way. He was so lonely, so alone. His position sets him apart. He needed a friend. He’s so lovely, hair like gold silk, eyes as blue as the sea on a calm day. Scarred, he saved a continent once, possibly the world. I wasn’t there, but I heard about it, he was just a kid, poor lad. He’s an orphan, no siblings, no anybody, except advisors. Until recently.”

He turned the glass, staring into the depths. “He’s the best person I know. He’s in a bad spot, war all the time, sending people his age to die. It weighs on him. Heart as big as the Maelstrom, and probably a temper to match, but I haven’t seen him use it. Timid as a fawn, took him time to trust Mattie and I weren’t going anywhere. Second best thing to ever happen to me.”

“And the best?”

“Mattie.” He smiled at the glass. “Ah, the good spymaster. I’m sure you knew he was here, skulking about with the Alliance. Always looking like he sucked on a lemon. Business first, loyalty to his people like you wouldn’t believe. Serving dutifully, thankfully they appreciate him, or they wouldn’t have gotten him out of Zandalar when that mess went down. But that’s just who he is to everyone.”

He set the glass aside, lost in thought. “Mattie’s, well, he’s like his daggers. He’s a little worn and scuffed, with nicks here and there from years spent at war. But like his weapons, so much more below the surface, stuff you’d pass over if you were only interested in something shiny and new. He’s smart, funny, and has a kind heart. You just have to be patient, get to know him, and well, if you’re me, wear him down. Once you do, you find he’s a good man. One of the best.”

“Your young man, and your Mattie, they’re acquainted?”

“Mattie works for him. Shouldn’t have said that.” Flynn put his head in his hands.

“Young sailor, anything said in this room is held in the strictest confidence. Your words are for my ears, and not for my lips.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Each lover is aware of the other?”

He snorted. “My lovers are each other’s lovers.”

“An uncommon arrangement.”

“Very, but we make it work.”

“Difficult, I’d imagine, with you here, and one of your lovers the king.”

He stared.

The tattooist smiled. “I’m old, but I am not stupid.”

“You certainly are not. No, Mattie helps with getting us to Anduin. He has palace access.”

“Do you envy the time they spend together, while you sail the seas?”

“I wish I was there. I miss them. Waking up with them is the best feeling. But if they’re seeking comfort together, I can’t be angry. I love them, both of them. And I’ll show them when I’m home with them.”

“You feel this is love, and not a baser desire? What if you find your affections fading in a few months, a year?”

Flynn stiffened, sitting straighter in the chair. “Then I’m a fool, and not worthy of anyone’s love. Not Anduin's, not Mattie’s, and definitely not theirs together. I can’t imagine my life without them. It sounds foolish, especially to someone who’s as old as you are. I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve got to be old, got to have seen a lot.”

“I am, and I have.”

“So I look pretty young and dumb, I’m sure. I’m sure you see people in here all the time, their latest obsession on their minds, their dicks. They want to show the world that this time it matters, that they’ve found their way.”

He forced himself to pick up the water, take a sip, and set it back down. “The world doesn’t need to know. I’m not out to prove it to anyone. My spy and my lad, well, they have no idea what I’m doing, what I’ve been thinking about for weeks. Mattie knows I love them both, but Anduin? He doesn’t have a clue. He still hasn’t worked out he’s worthy of love a thousand times over. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving it to him, if that’s what it takes.”

The elf studied the drawings, was silent for long minutes. “You show skill at these. I believe I know what you are looking for. I will create your art for you, ink it on your skin. But you must follow my instructions exactly, or it will ruin, and nothing will cover it.”

“Thank you, sir.” A lump formed in Flynn’s throat. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“You have given me an idea.” The old elf smiled. “I need the night to prepare the final piece. Meet me back here at ten tomorrow morning. Bring the fee.” He named a considerable sum.

He didn’t even blink. “Of course. Thank you again.”

***********************************************************************************

“So how does this work?” Flynn asked the next day, as he sat down in a large chair.

“Alchemical properties from various herbs are mixed with the ink, and infused with the arcane. They react, forming the colours. Then a second, different spell is used to imbue the inks with longevity, and a third to keep them from bleeding or fading. The process is very old, and only known to a few of us now.”

“It’s a high elf thing?”

“Yes, modified with Dalaran magics. I taught there long ago.” Several vials of ink were set out.

“Dalaran is that old?”

“I was there when the school was first founded, and only for a short while.”

“That’s amazing.”

“Let me show you what I have come up with, tell me if it will do.”

The elf pulled out a small card, handing it to Flynn. He studied the image. “Will it be in these colours?”

“Yes.”

“You can make ink shimmer?”

“Of course.”

“And lines that fine?”

“Absolutely.”

He was silent for long moments, turning the card.

“Is it not acceptable?”

“It’s everything I could ask for, and more. Somehow, you got into my head and found the image I couldn’t put down.”

“I only used what you gave me.”

“How did you know which parts of the drawing I wanted?”

“Oh, that wasn’t all you gave me. You also gave me knowledge from here.” The elf touched his heart. “And with that, the picture was clear.”

“No wonder Melli said you were the best.”

That earned him a smile. “Now, let us get started. You have neglected to tell me where you want this placed.”

He leaned forward, pulling off his shirt. “Why right here, of course.”

“A reasonable location. Drink this, it will make the process bearable.”

Flynn took a small glass of pink liquid and downed it in one gulp. It tasted faintly of ravenberry.

As the elf worked, he closed his eyes, thinking of the men he’d left in Stormwind. He wondered how their days were going, if Mathias had been staying with the young king, if Anduin slept on the rogue like he slept on himself. He grinned at that image, imagining the lad’s golden hair getting caught in the spy’s mustache.

He thought back to the small container of parcels and letters they were bringing back to Stormwind. Not reason enough to sail right back, but with a few more bits of cargo, they could conceivably leave in a week. If all went well, he’d be out and back home in about three weeks. A long time, but he could do it.

Home.

The idea startled him, and he almost moved, but remembered where he was. He was a Kul Tiran, born and bred. Never had he considered living anywhere but somewhere on the continent, and preferably in the city itself. Boralus was the home of his childhood, his youth, even his early adulthood. But now, it was no longer home.

Home was where Mathias and Anduin were.

He opened his eyes, seeing the tattooist looking at him. “Do you need a break?”

“No, no, I’m fine mate. I just realized that maybe I’m living in the wrong place.”

A nod, and the process started up again. “Humans have a saying, ‘home is where the heart is’ and while it’s a cliché, they seem to have it right. If your heart lies with your spymaster and king, then perhaps you need to be with them.”

“I’m beginning to think so,” he mumbled, wishing he had a drink.

“Will you do that then? Work on the vessels in Stormwind?”

“Doubtful. They’re a different sort, and I’m out of practice taking orders from others.”

“So you’ll continue to sail between the cities?”

“I suppose so. If I could find enough cargo to keep a route going, it could happen. I’d still be gone a lot, but I’d be home on a schedule. Crew’d like it too.”

The elf nodded. “Nearly finished now, won’t be long.”

He closed his eyes again, listening to the tap of the mallet as needles into him. The process hadn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than that damned kraken.

“There, it is done,” the tattooist pronounced. Flynn opened his eyes, and looked down, seeing the dark lines at the top, and a bit of shimmering golden ink.

“This will help,” said the elf, putting a mirror in his hands. He held it up, surveying the finished work. It glimmered and gleamed, lines sharp and exact. Everything was there, down to the smallest detail.

“I don’t know how you can do such perfect art, but I thank you, and can never pay you enough.”

The elf waved his hand. “Your appreciation is enough. That, and the gold that goes to the orphanage.”

“I’d have thought you’d spend it on the ink.”

The tattooist shook his head. “The components aren’t costly. It’s the magic that’s the time consuming portion. If the tattoo is expensive, fewer people come by. I only work on those I feel want my art for a worthy reason. And they help Kul Tiran children.”

“And my reason was good enough?”

“True love always is.” He set a bag in Flynn’s lap. “Here are your supplies: two vials and cloths. Purple liquid is twice a day, for five days. Wet the cloth, wipe the ink down, allow to air dry. No shirt while it’s drying. On the sixth day, use the green liquid. Soak the cloth, cover the ink. Let sit, at least a half hour, an hour is better. Provided you do all that, your ink will never fade, bleed, or be ruined, unless someone cuts you and you scar. Nothing to be done for an attempt to the heart, I’m afraid.”

Flynn reached for his shirt, pulling it on carefully. “Anything else?”

The old elf handed him a small card. “Talk to her. She may be able to help.”


	3. Chapter 3

Flynn wandered the marketplace, looking for a specific spot. He’d been through hundreds of times over the years, but never to this shop. Never had reason to, really.

Impulse had him going down a small alley he’d never taken, and there it was, the curious sign over the door. He entered, ducking through the low door, and found himself in the small store. Displays of ink and parchment took up the front portion and beautiful pieces of art in the back.

“Hello and welcome, how can I help you?” A slight older woman asked as she came out of a back room.

“I was told you might need a ship? Or be able to help a ship?” He stumbled over his own words.

“Who sent you?”

“Tides, I don’t know his name. Old elf, does tattoos?”

“Oh, Ralen,” she said with obvious delight. “You must be one of his clients. May I see?”

Flynn dutifully shrugged out of his coat, lifting his shirt.

“Beautiful. A tribute to a loved one?”

“Something like that,” he mumbled, tugging the shirt back down.

She smiled at him. “If Ralen wanted you to come to me, he wants you back with them. And from the looks of that tattoo, they’re with the Alliance. So, you’re looking to haul cargo back to Stormwind, am I right Captain?”

“I am. The _Bold Arva_ is a small ship, but we’re steady, and we’ve a tidesage to make good time. Unless Azeroth herself rises up, we’re able to get from here to here without problems.”

“Excellent. I need to send things that way periodically. Not much, between other merchants I know, and myself, we can provide enough to make the trips worthwhile.”

Flynn smiled. “That would be most welcome. If we could establish a regular route, I know my crew would be happy.”

“I imagine you’d be the happiest of the group, Captain.”

“Can’t say I wouldn’t. I miss my man.” _I miss them both._

“I remember those days vividly. My husband has been gone for a decade now, but the years we had were the best. Don’t let your best years get swallowed by the sea. Now, let me introduce you to the others.”

He followed her out of the tiny shop, into the market. She moved on steadily, not looking back, and he wove between the crowds, keeping an eye on her. It didn’t take long before she was ducking into another storefront.

He found the interior dim and dry. Wine racks lined the walls, and the windows were covered with shades.

“Hello Ian, I’m here to talk trade,” the woman said, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Margo! About time, I need these bottles to go as soon as someone ships out.”

“This is Captain, well, young man, who are you?”

“Captain Flynn Fairwind, Ma’am.”

Ian whistled. “The same Fairwind that’s taken up with the Alliance? Margo, you sea dog.”

“Had no idea. An acquaintance of mine sent him to me. He’s a small ship, looking to establish a route between Boralus and Stormwind. Has a man back there.”

Ian grinned. “Good on ya, Captain. I have need of someone to haul bottles of wine and port. Turns out some of the 7th Legion developed a taste for it while they were here, and now there’s a demand in the Alliance lands. I’m not shipping much yet, but it’ll be regular.”

“I’ll be happy to take any shipments. If I can get enough small ones, we can stay between the cities, where we want to be. No more weeks at sea, traveling all over. Most of us want to be in one city or the other.”

“I can have the bottles packaged and ready to ship out tomorrow, if that works for you, Captain? There’s a broker in Hook Point that draws up the majority of this market’s contracts, I think you’ll find we pay fairly for the work. I’ll send a runner to him, and by the time you finish with Margo, the contract should be compelted.”

“Sounds great. If we can get things works out, we’d leave the day after tomorrow.” He tried to control his excitement. Home a week sooner sounded amazing.

Margo tugged on his arm. “Come one, you giant Captain. I have more people for you to meet.”

He followed her out into the market, feeling a wide grin on his face. This might work out after all.

By early evening, he sat in the broker’s office, looking over the contracts. Each shipment wasn’t large, and the sums reflected that, but together they made a decent profit for the _Arva_. No one was going to be upset with their wages. He’d met nearly a dozen merchants that afternoon, and while not everyone had cargo waiting to head to Stormwind, everyone had plans for them in the coming month or two. Demand for Boralus goods was going to continue, and could keep them on a scheduled run.

Her figured he could look for various small merchants in Stormwind who might need the same services. Boralus was self-sufficient, but luxury goods and specialty items were always wanted. He’d handle that once he was back home.

Home. He could hardly wait.

***********************************************************************************

He lie in his bunk, half dozing, when the knock came. “Come in” he called, refusing to move.

“Captain, you all right?” Melli asked as she stepped in.

“Fine, just waiting for it to be past the hour.”  
“It’s ten past.”

He sat up, putting his hand to the cloth over his heart. “Time to see,” he muttered. He peeled it off carefully, and looked down.

Everything looked normal. He sighed.

“Oh Flynn, it’s beautiful. Shaw’s going to die when he sees it.”

“I hope not. I’d miss him.”

She laughed, punching his arm lightly. “You know what I mean. It’s so fitting, the story of your getting together.”

“Ah, yes.”

She looked closer at the tattoo. “He got all the details didn’t he? Although I think your emblem’s a weird one.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t use what they put on the shields. If you’re going to tell the story, why not use that?”

He smiled at her, and reached for his shirt. “See what you want, Melli love. I know what story it tells, and Mattie will know too.”

“You’re the Captain, you know best. Hey, speaking of your man, I need a favor. If we’re going to be going back and forth a lot, I want a place to stay in Stormwind. Somewhere where I won’t come home to my stuff being gone. Shaw would know the safest neighborhoods, and where’s cheapest in them, wouldn’t he?”

“I’d think so. If he doesn’t he’ll find out.” Flynn went to the mirror and picked up his brush. “I’ll know by the time we leave again.”

“Fantastic. How long are we staying?”

“I was thinking, three, maybe four days? Would be nice if we could manage that time on either end, give everyone some extra time off. Not sure it’ll work, we might need to push harder. We’ll see.”

“Could always spend a day in Boralus ferrying champions out for Azerite, if there’s need for it. That pays decent coin, would keep us busy too. I’m sure whoever’s doing it would love a break.” Melli stood in the doorway.

“True, there’s that.” He put the hairbrush down.

“I’ll be off, so you can admire your tattoo in peace, Captain.”

As soon as she left, he was moving to do just that. He examined it from as many angles as he could, making sure there wasn’t a single hint of it blurring and ruining. It was pristine. He traced over it, still in awe of the fine line work, the shimmering ink. Mathias and Anduin were going to be blown away when they saw it.

He wondered then, how he should show them. Did he want to show his rogue alone? Or show them at the same time? He knew his rogue would figure it out immediately. The lad, on the other hand, maybe not. He was still coming to terms with his own worth. Gestures of love and devotion were not something he would feel worthy of yet.

No, he needed them to see, and understand, together. It was best that way.

He dug in the bag that held the remnants of the potions. There was an extra small cloth, just the right size. With some bandaging, he could keep it covered. It wouldn’t be long before Anduin invited him to the keep. Then he could steal a private moment with the two of them.

Decision made, he tucked the supplies in his coat, and left his room.


	4. Chapter 4

He was overseeing the unloading of the wine when he felt someone behind him. Before he could move, strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing him. He looked down, seeing a familiar dark uniform.

“Mattie!” He cried, and the grip loosened enough for him to turn. He embraced the wiry spy, lifting him off his feet.

“Tides mate, I’ve missed you.” He kissed him soundly, drawing cheers from his crew. They ignored them.

“I wasn’t expecting that, but I can’t say I’m disappointed,” Mathias said when they broke the kiss. “You’re back a week earlier than we expected.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Left word among informants out here. You weren’t docked before someone was at SI:7 with the news you were back.”

Flynn smiled, touched. “Worried I’d not stop and say hello?”

The spy snorted. He glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot. “You think I’m bad? Anduin’s had the mages scrying the weather between here and Boralus since you left.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He didn’t want you caught in a storm.”

He frowned. “Risky.”

“He claimed he was doing it as a favor to me, since I’m so important to our war efforts.”

“We’re going to have to convince him not to do that.”

“I think he’ll calm down. He’s young and unsure. Give him time, love.”

“For someone who is always suspicious, you’re being awfully cavalier about this.”

Mathias shrugged. “I worried too.”

Flynn hugged him again. “I’m back now. And I have good news, and a surprise. But I need to finish unloading my ship, and then I need a bath.”

“I’ll let you get back to it. Plan on dinner at the Keep tomorrow. Anduin has some function tonight until late, but I know he’ll want to see you.”

“But I can plan on you tonight, right?” He watched his spy flush.

“Until later, Captain.”

Flynn chuckled and joined his crew unloading cargo. He went with the wine to its delivery point, a small brokerage in the Trade District. He noticed, with a smile, it was next to the Traveler’s Rest, and remembered the time Mathias had drug a very drunk Anduin out. Their relationship with the king had gotten much better after that.

The broker, a rotund man named Milo, was quite happy to receive the shipment. “I’ve had people asking for this for weeks,” he said, moving around excitedly. “I was thinking it would never show, and there were going to be disappointed shops and customers. I’m so glad you were able to bring this Captain Fairwind.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. We’ll be bringing all the shipments for the foreseeable future. I don’t know how often Ian’ll be sending them, but my crew’s handling them.”

“Then I look forward to working with you. What do you deliver back to Boralus, when you head home?”

He didn’t correct the man. “As of right now, we take a little mail, but not much else. We’re looking for any cargo that might need to go. If you know of anyone who needs to send smaller quantities, we’re your ship.”

“I might, actually. There’s not a lot of call for Stormwind goods there, but I do get a few requests for higher end things. If you’re sure you’re well armed and fast enough to take the cargo without issue, I don’t see why we can’t work things out.”

“The Arva isn’t heavily armed, but we’ve guns enough. And a tidesage, so we can outsail most problems, rather than shooting.”

“A tidesage you say? That’s even better. I’m sure I’ll have work for you, and if it goes well, I may have more people for you to see. Come talk to me before you leave.”

By early evening he found himself in Mathias’s apartment, up to his neck in steaming water. There’d been a note on the table from the spy, saying he’d be working late, which worked well for him. He wanted to get the salt off and cover his tattoo in private.

He was just tying off the bandage when there was a knock at the door. Dressed in only breeches, he opened it, finding a palace messenger.

“Message from the king, I’m to wait for a reply.”

He took the note, opening it and reading quickly. It was a simple missive, requesting his and Mathias’s presence for dinner the next night, signed by his majesty, King Anduin Wrynn. He bit back a smile.

“Please tell his majesty we accept with gratitude,” he said politely. The messenger bowed and departed.

Flynn reread the message as he went to sit in an armchair. Anduin’s script was strong, and he wished that his lover had been able to slip out of the castle with his disguise charm and deliver it in person. He itched to hold him, to pull him onto his chest and watch him sleep. He loved waking up with him there, nestled in among his tattoos.

“And now, another tattoo for him to sleep amongst,” he murmured, touching his bandage. Idly, he wondered if love marks would show over it, like they would through his older tattoos. He was sure he’d find out before he left again.

The day had been long, and was catching up with him. He headed to Mathias’s bed, stretching out. He hoped the spy would wake him when he finally made it home. It would be nice to catch up on everything he’d missed, including that firm, muscled body. He felt himself growing hard at the idea, firmly told himself to behave, and rolled over to sleep.

***********************************************************************************

He woke before Mathias the next morning, finding the older man curled up against him in the bed. Tracing his hands along lean shoulders and strong arms, he took in the handsome grace that was his beloved.

“If it’s early, I’m going to be displeased.”

He looked over at the clock. “Nearly seven.”

“Still early. Renzik said he’d cover, he expected me to be late today.”

Flynn chuckled. “All of SI:7 know I’m back?”

“Yes. The jokes yesterday were constant.”

“My poor Mattie, being teased. Such a terrible thing to have happen to the master spy.”

“Shut up, pirate.”

“Ex-pirate, thank you very much. Now a respectable captain, even.”

Mathias snorted. “I’ve seen some of the things you do in bed, they’re you’re truly reformed.”

“Maybe I should show you how penitent I am, Master Shaw,” he purred. Oh yes, there was the reaction he’d hoped for. He reached down, stroking the spy, reveling in the groan that resulted. “I need to make up for all the time I’ve been gone, unless you were too occupied with our lad to miss me?”

“I can enjoy him and miss you at the same time.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, kissing his way down Mattie’s chest, surveying the love marks dotting it. “Someone’s been busy.”

“He loves it.”

“And you can’t tell him no?”

“Who am I to deny him?”

He couldn’t argue. Instead, he moved over the redhead’s heart, leaving a mark of his own. Then he traveled south, kissing and nipping some more. He took Mathias in his mouth, enjoying the taste of him. Cupping his balls, he squeezed gently, drawing moans from the man, feeling him writhe on the bed.

“Oh Flynn, I have missed you. Missed this.” Fingers tangled in his hair.

He took his time, teasing his lover, bringing him closer, then backing off. By the time he was content to move on, Mathias had his hair gripped tightly, and was muttering obscenities that would make most nobles blush.

“Are you having problems, Master Shaw?” he asked innocently, earning himself a glare.

“I do believe a certain red headed, annoying captain would be less of a problem if he stopped playing around, and got serious for a minute.” The voice as stern, but there was a smile on his face.

Flynn grinned up, unrepentant. “I’m trying to show how remorseful I am, sir.”

“You can show that in other ways, sailor.”

He pulled out the oil, slicking himself up. He worked the redhead over, dropping kisses on him as his arched and whimpered. Finally, he was able to enter him, as he’d been aching to do for some time. He went slowly, letting Mathias get used to him.

“Maybe we should encourage our king to take his pleasure in you, so when I come home, I don’t need to spend so much time making you ready,” he murmured in the other man’s ear.

“I suggested it,” he admitted. “He says he prefers us to claim him.”

Flynn shuddered at the visuals that came to mind, of Anduin under him, hands gripping his biceps, and another flash, of Anduin riding Mathias, head thrown back. He groaned.

“Oh no, you’re not embarrassing yourself this quickly. I’ve missed you too much.”

“I’m fine,” he panted. “Was just imagining. I’ll stop.”

Pushing the images away, he pulled the smaller man onto his thighs, changing the angle of his thrusts, coaxing more moans from him. His spy wrapped his legs about his waist, and he grasped Mathias’s cock, working it.

“I’m not going to last if you do that, Flynn,” the rogue warned, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Don’t care.”

Mathias came with a shout soon after, and he felt him clench around him. He thrust deep, and found his release too, spilling in him. Panting, he collapsed on the bed.

“Captain, I do believe you missed me.”

“Oh Master Shaw,” he drawled. “You have no idea.”

His rogue curled up against him, lying his head on his chest. “I missed you. I’m glad to have you here. How long can you stay?”

“Three or four days. Could be more, depending on what it takes to work out contracts.”

“Contracts?”

“I might have a route, Mattie. A real route that’ll get me home more often.” He could hear himself getting excited. “I have a contract with some folks in Boralus, hauling small shipments. Nothing for a full load, but there’s enough that it’s profitable. Now all I have to do is get some contracts here, for cargo back, and I’ll be set.”

“And then you’ll be home every two weeks. That’s great Flynn.” There was a touch of sadness in Mathias’s voice.

“What’s wrong Mattie? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“I’m pleased you’ll be in town more. I just feel sad I’m keeping you from home.”

He sighed. “For a smart man, you miss the point sometimes.”

Mathias twisted, looking up at him. “What point, Captain Kul Tiran?”

He ruffled the spy’s red hair. “Just because I’m from there doesn’t mean I have to stay there. I had a realization while I was there. Boralus isn't home anymore.”

His spy moved, propping himself up on one elbow. “So are you saying Stormwind is?”

“Yes. I don’t want to be away from you, or our lad. And you’re both here. So home is here for me.”

Mathias smiled, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “So does that mean I’ll be getting a roommate?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“I think I can handle that. It’s not like you’re here a lot, and when you’re in town, we’ll be spending nights at the Keep.”

He sat up. “That reminds me, there’s a note from Anduin. We have a dinner invitation.”

“I saw. Pity it’ll be a public dinner.”

“I wondered about that. Well, then we can retire for whiskey and some cuddling.”

The spy went to the basin, tossing a cloth to Flynn. “Knowing how excited he was about you returning, I’m sure that’s his plan. He’s missed you terribly.”

“I’ve missed him too. I missed you both. You were on my mind all the time.”

“Is that why you’re wounded?”

“What?”

“Your bandage. I was going to ask, but you were sound asleep when I came in, and then you surprised me this morning.”

“Oh, no. New tattoo. Want to show you both together.”

Mathias nodded, turning to shave. “Is it as ugly as the rest of them?”

He laughed. “This one will blow you away. Magic ink.”

“Were you drunk when you got it?”

He laughed some more. “Sounds like a tale, doesn’t it? No, I promise you Mattie, I was as sober as they come. It’s a special tattoo, done by a really good artist.”

The red-headed spymaster eyes him skeptically. “If I hadn’t fought demons, met tidesages, and seen priests use the Light, I would say you’re a lunatic.”

“Good thing you know I’m not.”

“So what is it?”

He smiled, pulling a shirt on. “You have to wait. You’ll understand when you see it.”

His spy rolled his eyes. “I swear by the Light, if it’s a big heart with our names in it, I will cut it off you while you sleep.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Now a dagger with your name in it? That would be far more fitting.”

Mathias growled.

He wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him close. “You know I love you, right? And I love seeing that temper of yours rise up, just a little.”

After a moment, his embrace was returned. “You always could get a rise out of me. I used to think you did it intentionally.”

“Sometimes I did. Seeing the great Spymaster Shaw in a fit was a thing of beauty. I won’t tell you how many nights that saw me through.”

Mathias groaned. “You’re terrible.”

“You love me anyway.”

“You’re right, I do. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me too love, me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know, no tattoo reveal! It's in the last bit, along with some reconciliation for Anduin and a former old flame. Give me a couple days, it needs a name, and maybe a third chapter.
> 
> I'm on Twitter now! [@IrielKayani](https://twitter.com/IrielKayani)


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